Love Thy Stranger
by Nineinchheels
Summary: Art was her reason for living, music what gave him breath. She asked him a simple, one-worded question, and he decided to answer. AH.
1. Where Is My Mind?

**Disclaimer: I own nothing, just couldn't sleep for a few days and had an idea.**

**9 chapters, they're all written and unedited. Just go with it, I did.**

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**1\. Where Is My Mind?**

_by Pixies_

Unsure of why she did it, Rosalie just kept walking as if nothing happened. She pushed it to the back of her mind and decided not to think about it. Her mind was already spinning with the presentation she was about to give, her palms sweating and her heartbeat present in every corner of her body. Rose did _not_ like attention - just walking down a street made her wonder how many judged her, if she was walking strangely. Which in turn, of course, caused her to almost forget how to walk and her movements to become stilted.

Inhaling deeply through her nose, she held her breath and then blew it out slowly. _I can do it_, she chanted in her head, her fingers curling around the hem of her favorite t-shirt. She was known for creating her own t-shirts, buying plain black tees and then creating something rare out of them. This one had a motive of a park, horse drawn carriages, vintage clothing - down to the puffy dresses on the women lying in the grass fanning themselves. Dogs and kids playing frisbee, and a big, beautiful old school carousel, she had put extra detail into that one. However, instead of the classic horses with children laughing as it went round and round, were rows of young adults all engrossed in whatever was on their own computer screen.

Going over every detail on her shirt in her mind, she was for a moment pulled out of her nervous thoughts and her breathing became normal.

Which made her frown. Less than a minute ago, she had passed a young man as she walked through the entrance of the art school building. He had been leaning against a wall, like her, entirely donned in black. He was pushing the heels of his hands into his eyes and inhaling deeply as she passed.

"Headache?" She had, uncharacteristically, wondered out loud, barely looking at him. It was merely an observation. Rosalie had never seen his face, just noted the unique color of his wild hair. What would best create such a color on a canvas?

"Yeah," she had heard him groan as her feet carried her about two steps away.

"Well, life sucks."

Then she was gone, and now she was reaching what felt like her doom. She knew she had positive attributes - she wasn't dumb by any means. However, a part of her wondered if anybody knew this. The jumbled, stuttered mess of words that escaped her mouth as she was forced to speak in public made her sound like an idiot.

This time would probably not be any different.


	2. Roll The Bones

**2\. Roll The Bones**

_by Rush_

Rosalie twisted her hair up into the normal messy bun as she walked out the door, not bothering to look in the mirror. Her black shirt worn and a bit torn, she had made it four years ago just before graduating High School. The man she had painted was what she had envisioned a writer to be centuries ago. A big golden had collapsed on his head, looking as if it was made of jelly but, at the same time, surprisingly solid. A white feather in his hand and socks squeezing his calves all the way up to the ballooning pants.

The shirt was also unbuttoned, a bit at the top, making him look ruffled. On display was a big tattoo which gave the impression of being wrapped around his torso. The skull with an eyebrow ring and a bright red mohawk stood out against the soft colors he was dressed in. Down from the writers ears snaked the cords of an iPod, disappearing into the pocket of his pants.

Rosalie pulled her own black, faux leather jacket closer around herself, trying to swallow away the nerves. Her fingers were gripping the edge of the sketchbook she had tucked under her arm, it had been three days since the presentation and she was still obsessing over her shaking hands, wavering voice and nervous laughter. What were they thinking? What had she said?

Since joining the university all those years ago, Rosalie had made exactly one friend. She spent most of her time in her own apartment or in the local park - reading, painting and listening to music. Alice was a computer nerd, spending her time with her online friends and gaming. She was a funky woman and had pretty much the same impression of the world as Rose did. Nevertheless, Alice was more comfortable with people, she loved the attention because it created a chance for her to spread her opinions like dandelion seeds in the wind.

When they had first met, it was Alice who had initiated their friendship, something which made Rosalie eternally grateful. She had been a bit surprised about feeling tall - Rosalie was usually perceived as short, only reaching 5'3. However, she had realized that she had several inches on her new small friend. Where Alice had short dark hair, big blue eyes made up with eyeliner and mascara, Rosalie's own hair was long, blond and never styled - always tied up in a simple bun with a few tendrils always falling down around her face throughout the day - and she never learned the tricks of makeup.

Rosalie lived fairly close to the campus and therefore, she made it there in just above five minutes. In her ears was her salvation, music soothing her nerves.

She didn't see him as she walked through the door, pulling the headphones out of her ears and putting them in her pocket with the iPod. The voice rang out from her right just as she passed, "Art student?" It was soft, smooth and belonged to a perfectly shaped mouth. As she glanced at him, one eyebrow automatically raised, she briefly noted that he had an interestingly beautiful face. She wanted him carrying a bucket of water over reddish stones with grass poking up between them. She wanted him to be a stable boy, working at a beautiful ranch. She wanted him to wear old, ragged pants with garters over a Led Zeppelin t-shirt… or maybe Rush.

Rosalie held up the sketchbook, paint staining the pale skin of her hand and arm where the jacked pulled back a bit. "No, I'm a physicist."

The young man snorted behind her and Rosalie kept moving, not giving the interaction any more thought as she turned the corner, spotting Alice and not meeting the eyes of any of the other students. It would be a long class.


	3. Bad Company

**3\. Bad Company**

_by Bad Company_

Edward - quite surprisingly - didn't feel stupid at all as he once more stood in the art school building. He and his friends usually ate there because they had the best cafeteria, however, lately he had been… inspired… to go there more often.

Nobody seemed to know her, to be fair, the campus was fairly large. Nevertheless, even though they didn't know her, they had a lot of opinions. Apparently, she was a bitch who turned her nose up at everyone. Which brought the question "_why am I here?_" to mind. Answer? Edward thought they were wrong. He had seen her for the first time as she was walking away from him, he had been in shock for a while, simply staring. Then he had smiled.

After a shitty day, his mother calling about his grandfather whose condition was getting worse with every ragged breath the old man drew… Momentarily, Edward closed his eyes, his fingers closing around the neck of his guitar. His grandfather wouldn't be fine. Edward knew this. However, after a shitty day, the young sarcastic woman whom he had only interacted with twice made him grin.

He had seen her more often, the music and art buildings were next to each other, and one of his classes was held in one of the bigger lecture halls in the very building he was standing. Mostly, she was quiet, observing instead of interacting. Nonetheless, he had overheard her deeply sarcastic and witty conversations with the small, black-haired woman she spent her time with. At the same time as she clearly used humor to shield herself, she was surprisingly warm and… kind, towards her friend.

It didn't exactly hurt that she was absolutely, carelessly gorgeous either. Edward found her far too interesting not to mildly stalk. His mother - ever the psychologist - would say this was a way for him to avoid the emotions he was currently going through. Maybe she was right, but when the young blond walked through the door, automatically walking around people in her way, never letting them move out of her way, he couldn't help but to grin. She was putting her iPod in her pocket, seemingly unconsciously smiling down at the little musical square.

"What're you listening to?" he asked when she moved closer, he observed how her brow slightly furrowed, how her eyes flickered to his face.

She got an incredulous expression on her face, which fairly quickly morphed into a smile. "Bad company."

He got a real good look at her face for the first time, she didn't stop moving and he didn't expect her to. As she had almost passed him, he called out, "Song, album or band?"

"All of the above."

For some reason, this was why Edward was able to smile as he called his grandfather that night.


	4. Crawling Back To You

**4\. Crawling Back To You**

_by Daughtry_

Rosalie flipped the page of the book she was reading as she stared into the air. She wasn't sure what it was about, even though she had been sitting on the bench in the park since six am and it was almost noon. Music pounded in her ears, it kept her grounded. Unsure of what was happening, she tried not to ponder the matter.

It wasn't going very well.

_Edward_.

She had learned that the previous day. Over the past two weeks, they had been exchanging a conversation which normally would be fitted into fifteen minutes. He was a music major, preferred the food in the cafeteria of the art building. Rosalie closed the book on a finger, not that it would help much when she went back to reading. He appeared to be smart. With a dry sense of humor. He had a nice smile… although, that was more of an observation.

_Fuck that._ Rosalie rolled her eyes at herself. He was beautiful. For the past couple of days, she had been sketching him over and over again. His eyes, the shape of his mouth, his nose, his fingers around the guitar he carried in a case on his back. This was the reason Rosalie had brought a book as she woke up at the crack of dawn. She felt ridiculous… and a bit creepy.

The thing was, this never happened to her. _Men_. She barely left the apartment if it wasn't for classes or sitting on the bench under the old tree in the park. Her favorite spot. It was a bit hidden away with a view of the pond, perfect serenity.

Pulling her legs up further against her chest, Rosalie leaned her head against the trunk of the tree and let her eyes roam her surroundings. The leaves above protected her from the light drizzle and created a fog which rolled steadily over the ground. She sighed and closed her eyes. Instantly seeing deep green eyes. The man was addictive. And technically, they didn't know each other. Nevertheless, it did occur to her that he probably knew her better than most people. Except for her mother and Alice, he was probably the person who knew her the best.

He was a vegetarian.

Rosalie smiled - she would never have guessed. He was tall, dark and brooding. Tattoos snaking over his arms and never dressing in anything but black - docs, tees and jeans. And vegetarian. Because it "_suited_" him better.

He wanted to start a band with his best friends but none of them could carry a vocal tone. They had piano, drums and his guitar, however, sing they could not.

She hadn't told Alice about him, Rosalie's mind treated him as something mythical. As if speaking of him aloud would cause him to evaporate. Her eyes almost teared up.

"What's wrong with me?"

In the back of her mind echoed years of words which all still carved her insides out of her body. Her fingers dropped the book and curled into her hair, seemingly drying to dig into her skull and rip the pain out.

Silently, she mouthed her mantra over and over again, _he was wrong._ She wanted to be happy. Just for one day. Rosalie picked up the fallen book from the damp grass and dried off the moist with her sleeve. When walking home, she didn't see a thing, her feet carried her down the familiar path on autopilot. Thirty minutes later, she walked through her front door and straight to the easel that stood in front of the mirror.

For the next few hours, she let her brush stroke the canvas where her pain, memories and a pair of intense green eyes formed under her hand. When she came up for air, the sky outside was dark and she once again reminded herself that _he was wrong_.


	5. Walk Away

**5\. Walk Away**

_by Ben Harper_

Rosalie could see his brow furrowing at the very sight of her, Edward still didn't expect her to stop. The thought never really crossed his mind. "Tired?" he asked, already knowing the answer. Her pale skin was lifeless, her lips chapped and it was as if someone had punched her in the face, leaving the skin around her eyes dark.

Having forgotten about breakfast, Rosalie figured it was the safer option and still the truth. "Just looking forward to dinner."

She didn't want him to know how messed up she was. That she let words spoken years prior… for the first eighteen years of her life, still ruled her life. Still made every day a struggle and every night a horror. She didn't want him to know that she hadn't slept in almost three days, that this happened too often in her life. Monthly. That she was more than any other person should have to handle.

Edward just nodded as he watched her walk away, and she didn't look back, even though she, for the first time, wanted to more than anything. Even more than sleep. Instead of looking back, she turned the corner and found Alice standing outside the lecture hall. Her friend was giving her a worried look from the moment they saw each other, but at Rose's bleak but trying smile, she launched into a description of her gaming pursuits instead. She had learned enough about Rosalie to know that she was a very private person and even though she from time to time would open up in private, asking her a loaded question like that in public would not be a good idea.

When Alice saw her friend frown herself, she turned her head and saw the professor walking towards them with a key. However, the old man unlocking their classroom would hardly explain the confused expression on Rosalie's delicate face.

It wasn't until a young man, someone Alice couldn't help to turn to look after when he passed, walked by with a guitar on his back, that Alice got her answer. When he was close enough, he threw a green apple towards Rosalie. Turning it in her hand once, as if she would be able to find the explanation written on it, Rose stared at the apple. Alice looked back from the man just as she caught the expression on his face. It was in response to the amusement washing over Rosalie's face as she shook her head once and took a bite out of the apple.

Alice didn't move, and she wasn't the only one looking between the two with big eyes. He was walking out of the building and Rosalie into the classroom, they hadn't said a word and still, the moment spoke volumes.

Finally, the small dark haired girl snorted loudly and then broke out in laughter as she followed Rose. This, she found interesting.


	6. Crown of Thorns

**6\. Crown Of Thorns**

_by Mother Love Bone_

"Damn it!" Emmett threw his drumsticks in the wall while Edward and Jasper only laughed. They had gotten used to Em's outbursts over the years and instead of joining him in his frustration and making it worse, they tried to keep their cool. Nevertheless, they were both as annoyed as him, feeling the pressure of May coming closer. It was months away, but they needed to come up with something good enough for their final project. Without a voice or more instruments, their music felt thin and lacking.

"Maybe we should take Jake and his boys up on their offer. We could use some more… substance." Jasper let his fingers dance over the keyboard, not looking at either of his friends.

"Fuck no." Edward shook his head violently. He liked Jake, but adding more people to their small group would mess it up, they had no chemistry with Jake and his friends. "It would only make it worse."

"Hell yes." Emmett grumbled and stood up, stretching. "And I hate those guys."

This caused an honest round of laughter. Emmett had always been the biggest, strongest guy while his two friends were lankier by comparison. It wasn't a secret that he didn't necessarily like Jake, and especially Sam, because of their size. They were all living together over a gym, which meant that their big frames weren't a mystery. However, this argument did nothing for Emmett.

"Well then, we'll figure it out." Jasper shrugged but didn't sound too convinced.

To be honest, Edward was worried. He'd vented over the phone to Bella all last night, although, she appeared to be more amused and interested in the small blonde than their musical difficulties.

Once, they had tried a relationship out of convenience. They had a lot in common and had been friends since they were kids. Nevertheless, the relationship lasted for about five days, starting Monday and ending with date night on Friday. They had just gotten into the car after - for the first time - awkwardly sitting next to each other in a movie theatre. This was when they according to plan would go to some romantic place… Edward had been drumming his hands on the wheel, trying to figure out how to tell Bella that the two times they had kissed had been freakishly incestuous. That was when Bella had spoken, "You want to go to the store and pick up some skittles? I bet I can get three bags into my mouth at the same time."

And thus ended the most uncomfortable period of their friendship.

"Whatever," Edward shook his head and glanced at the clock. "I'll be right back."

"Where?" Emmett called out, grinning widely.

They didn't know why, they didn't know who but both Jasper and Emmett were very certain of the _what_.

For the first time, as Edward briskly walked outside, he saw Rosalie moving across the Fine Arts parking lot. "Hey." Edward's voice wasn't heard, she still had music in her ears. This caused him to smile. He caught up to her, pulling twice on the cord of the iPod.

And nearly scared her out of her mind.

"Son of a bitch!" Rosalie spun around and her palm connected harshly with his chest, sending a jolt straight to his heart… accompanied by a surprised exhale because of the strength she hit him with. "What the hell?"

Rosalie's eyes were wide as she pulled the headphones out of her ears, trying to calm her racing heart. Edward, clueless when it came to her racing thoughts, just grinned at her vocabulary and fell into step next to her as Rosalie kept walking. Bella's encouragement still ringing in his ears, Edward realized that he couldn't stop smiling.

At the same time as his mind tried to concoct the right way to ask the question, his mouth blurted, "You have a boyfriend?"

A breathy, incredulous laugh escaped Rosalie as she still hadn't gotten her heart under control. To her, the notion was preposterous. Finally she realized that it was a serious question and, eyes not leaving his, she shook her head with her brows knitted together.

His smile widening, bordering on goofy, he waited for a few seconds before asking, "Don't you have a question for me?"

Rosalie's brows lifted slightly, her mouth twisting in amusement. With dancing eyes, she shot a question right back at him. "Do you think Elvis is still alive?"


	7. When I Grow Up

**7\. When I Grow Up**

_by Fever Ray_

It had only been a couple of days since Rosalie had left Edward laughing in the parking lot, she had asked him a question she thought was just as outrageous as his. She still smiled when she thought about the way he laughed. She had tried to paint it, the way he looked, the way he sounded, she just couldn't do it justice.

Rosalie didn't notice it herself, however, people who didn't knew her did. She walked a little taller, looked a bit happier and her eyes didn't shift as much. Of course, this caused a lot - especially women - to say that she was getting even more full of herself. Nevertheless, Rosalie's smile instantly fell as she walked into the art building and saw Edward standing where she had first seen him. He looked as if he would welcome a headache with open arms.

Her entire face morphed into worry, a sharp contrast to the blank expression she usually tried to keep to hide her nerves. The hem of her t-shirt was fried from her plucking and twisting fingers, but most didn't notice details as that one. Her black t-shirt was the one she had been wearing during their very colorful abstract art class. Every now and then, Rosalie had swiped the bright colors she had been using over the t-shirt - sometimes with her fingers - and there were dots of colors that had landed on the material as she grew more emotional while painting. The shirt was a mess and she loved it. However, her shirt was the furthest thing from her mind at the moment.

Rosalie didn't even hesitate as she moved closer to him, she was just about to start speaking when Alice called out from the distance, yelling for her to hurry up. Something about the class having been moved to a building across the campus. She still stopped in front of him for the first time, her heart beating uncomfortably in her chest. "Are you okay?"

Usually, Edward's eyes said so much about his feelings… usually, he looked so… full of life. Now he seemed barely present.

Edward tried a smile, not surprise at the fact that he was suddenly breathing easier. "Dying grandfather," he stated as evenly as he could, swallowing hard.

Rosalie's hand curled around the fabric of her shirt, but not out of nerves but of uncertainty. She wanted to touch him, comfort him in any way possible. But she was just a random girl in the art building. Searching his now pained eyes, she almost felt her own tearing up. "I'm so sorry."

Alice called out for her to hurry her ass along but was unable to break the eye contact between Rosalie and her stranger.

They just stared at each other, both battling the urge to just… _closer_. It was a mutual thought.

Then a girl screeched Edward's name and Rosalie jumped back, her whole heart in her words as she whispered, "I'm so sorry." And then she left, not seeing him stopping his hand just as it was about to touch her arm. What Rosalie did was to hear the loud woman's voice as she actually cooed over Edward behind her, her laughter just as shrill as her voice.

She didn't answer Alice's questioning gaze, she just kept moving with her heart and soul dripping to the floor behind her.


	8. Crying in the Chapel

**8\. Crying in the Chapel**

_by Charles Bradley_

A week went by and every time Edward didn't stand in his spot when Rosalie arrived at campus, a kind of worry she couldn't place twisted her heart. She didn't see him as she went to class, she did think of him though. Her mantra had now expanded to something longer, something to convince herself of more things. Which meant that now, it was only half right. Because as true as it was that her father had been wrong all those years, Rosalie wasn't being ridiculous. Had she known how often that particular young man - now in a black suit - thought of her, her fragile heart would have swelled until it shattered.

In class, the teacher was talking about… something, Rosalie didn't know what because her eyes were focused on the notepad in front of her. The pen hadn't touched the paper, yet, she saw a pair of pained green eyes staring back at her.

She should have said something to help. However, it had been a week and she still hadn't been able to figure out what. What do you say? Because Edward hadn't said sick, or hurt. He said dying. How could she help him?

She had almost asked her mother as they spoke the previous night, asked what you say - _how_ do you _help_? That was all she wanted. Somehow, the words eluded her, mostly because there wasn't much to say. She had conveyed more than she knew by simply stopping. Standing there. With him. Even if it was just a breath of time.

The lecture ended and she walked next to Alice, her friend chatting - complaining, today it seemed. Something hadn't gone the way she planned. Something about a level.

All of Rosalie's effort to understand the world her friend was speaking of drained from her as she froze mid-step. They were walking by the cafeteria when her eyes fell on a hunched form, standing with a couple men by a table.

He looked… broken.

And then his eyes lifted, instantly finding hers. Rosalie moved her eyebrows together slightly in a question, one he answered with a defeated shake of his head.

Edward's fingers flexed as he saw her, he wasn't ruled by the same questioning thought process as she was, not when it came to social interactions. Usually, Rosalie obsessed over every past and future moment she had to spend with people. They always made her breath become a bit more shallow.

Not this time.

This time, all it took was beat more of her heart and then she was moving. She couldn't stand to see him look _that_ hurt. She couldn't _not_ do something. At this point, anything.

For once, she didn't consider every step she took, or find judgment in every gaze on her. She didn't even notice the surprised widening of eyes from people who thought they knew her, or the equally surprised eyes of people who actually knew him as the two were pulled together like magnets. Her face was pressed against his neck and his arms holding onto her as if she was the only thing that kept him from falling over. "I'm so, _so_ sorry," she mumbled against his skin, hating that she even noticed how good he smelled, and how warm he was.

Then he said the only thing she would never question, the only words her mind didn't try to dissect to find the hidden meaning. "I missed you."


	9. Forever

**9\. Forever**

_by Ben Harper_

"How's it going over there, short stuff?" Emmett called out as he walked into the room. It was a nickname that had stuck between Edward's friends. Rose just smirked and shook her head, putting in the finishing touches on her work. These days, she mostly worked with computer programs, but she still truly loved the feel of a simple pencil in her hand and the scratching sound as she put it to paper.

Her eyes fell on the simple, golden band around her ring finger as her hand tapped out the beat to the music in the background. She still smiled every time she saw it. The words of his vow still rung true in her mind, his kind of forever wasn't the most common kind. Edward's forever was _always_. He still looked at her as if she held secrets he would _gladly_ uncover. Preferably slowly and _thoroughly_.

Trying to stop smiling, her eyes sought him out to where he lolled on the couch across the room, adoring eyes on her as his fingers danced across the strings of his guitar.

"I had to get out of my apartment, man." Emmett said as he cracked open their fridge and stuck his head in. When he straightened out, he was holding three beers, passing one to Rose as he passed where she was sitting on a stool by the counter.

"Thanks," she mumbled and finally tore her eyes away from her husband to look down at the picture in front of her.

He had been right on that day, forever wouldn't be enough for them. She could draw him every day of eternity and still not get enough. She drew him from memory, making sure to rediscover every nook of his body and then put it on paper.

"Why did you have to escape?" Edward put carefully put his guitar away and took the beer from his friend.

"Those two are so fucking loud." The almost smug laughter in Emmett's voice made Rosalie pause as she looked up from her work. Her thought process could be read on her face as she stared out into the air for a moment.

"Two who?" Edward asked, watching how Rosalie's mouth fell open, she spun around to face them where she was sitting. The shit-eating grin on Emmett's face was enough of an indicator.

"No!"

"You're kidding me!"

Now laughing, too, Rosalie slid off the stool and moved to sit on the couch, only to be pulled down on her husband's lap and have a soft kiss placed just below her ear. A slight shiver traveled through her body and Edward chuckled, pulling her into the shape of his body.

As she looked back on him, the emotion in her chest almost too big and painful to endure, but impossible to live without. Her fingers briefly traced his jaw and their friends were momentarily forgotten.

That is, until Emmett barreled forward into his story, snapping the pair out of their bubble. With one last glance at each other, they looked back to the large man. Rosalie melted into Edward's embrace as they listened to Emmett retell how Alice had showed up at the apartment the night before, apparently having had enough of the dance she and Jasper had performed since they were introduced to each other.

"And Peter and Charlotte?" Edward asked, a crooked smile on his lips and his thumb tracing his wife's skin just under the hem of her black t-shirt. Like so many others, it was a man with his guitar wrapping protectively around her torso.

"Are probably already out drowning their sorrows together. From what I've learned throughout the years…" Emmett smirked, "From documentaries, that is, women - people, don't really appreciate being broken up with in a text message."

Snorting, Rosalie put her bottle on the table in front of them and held a hand out. "I had seven years. Pay up, bitches."

"I'll get you later," Edward promised with an open-mouthed kiss against her neck. "We have forever."


End file.
